


Ache

by CeeceePepper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: He loves Junkrat and wont admit it, M/M, also this was a drabble request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeeceePepper/pseuds/CeeceePepper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ASK: Could you please write something kind of melancholy between Junkrat and Roadhog? I love the rough stuff between them but... something sad would be nice?</p><p>Answer: I can't really see Junkrat being openly sad or emotional about things unless there's an established relationship, so I just wrote Roadhog realizing his feelings for Junkrat and kind of disassociating himself between Mako and Roadhog. I suffer from MPD, and I know it consists of three or more personalities, but I feel him splitting himself between Mako and Roadhog is something similar to what I and a lot of my other MPD suffering friends do...<br/>Warning, this fic is super melancholy and I was listening to 'The Sinking Man' and 'Love Love Love' while writing this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ache

It was the sort of ache Roadhog had learned to forget. It was an ache that he only felt late at night, too, he knew that well enough. He knew where it came from. He knew why it was there. Yes, Roadhog had read up enough on every sort of kind of information to know what it was, where it came from. Yet, he still wanted it so gone. But that ache had become an addiction, both a blessing and a burden.

  
It was an ache he hadn't felt since he was Mako; Roadhog never felt these kinds of things. Roadhog didn't feel. Roadhog was all action, not a lot of thought, and definitely no feelings. A cold, crazy killer, in his own right. Mako was soft, Mako was big and awkward and was anxious to talk, Mako was a coward and a crook. Mako was manipulative. Mako was sad.

Roadhog didn't feel the ache. Mako felt the ache.

It was when caramel eyes would fall on the body beside him, the silhouette of candlelight illuminating against his pale skin. It was Junkrat, curled up on the shitty blanket the motel came with. His body moving up, down, softly. Softly to a tune of being alive, a tune that Roadhog only knew for some time, and long forgot. The pattern came delicately, of up, down, up, down. In and out, in and out. A breath in, a breath out.

And there had been a time where Roadhog wouldn't have felt the ache. When he had just met the little shit, when he hadn't blown his fucking side to shit, when Junkrat was just a little fuckin' bag of nuts and bolts and nothing. Then he'd found him again, instead blowing everyone else to shit and asking for help. He'd signed up for a fifty/fifty split, reluctantly, but now it was starting to seem like emotional baggage came with it. Not that Junkrat ever threw his emotional bullshit on him, no. Roadhog and Junkrat knew that's now how things worked.

Sometimes Roadhog would wake up and see Junkrat's frame in the tiny bathroom, washing his face and gasping. Roadhog would wonder what was wrong, but he'd never openly go to help him unless he was drowning. And Roadhog sometimes would stir, wake up into the long nights for coffee and never really sleep. When the aches would start to pull at him and he needed a way to drown it out. It was nights like those, where sometimes Junkrat would wake up, watch him. He knew he was, he could feel those lightening-like eyes watching him, probably a softer look to them than normal. That's how Junkrat got when he was sleepy. The staring pulled at Roadhog-- no, pulled at Mako-- and made him want to drown the feeling out more with even more caffeine.

Before everything went to Hell in a hand basket, Mako might've been drinking this feeling away. Remembering a pretty girl he'd laid with, being left in the morning with empty sheets and an empty soul. Or when his Ma finally decided to give out, the wasteland's harshness taking its toll on the tiny woman. Or when he was all alone, in a room, fixing his wounds and wishing he had company. Those aches that Mako felt were things Roadhog didn't, shouldn't, feel now. He'd given up drinking to watch Junkrat-- he had to be coherent to watch the little shit.

But Mako was still ghosting inside of Roadhog, a pit in his stomach that never went away. That came out of him sometimes, making him wish he could take the pig mask off, maybe let his hair down, tell Junkrat he'd always be okay. Maybe in some instances, tell Junkrat to stay. Not to abandon ship. Not that Roadhog would ever admit Mako had abandonment issues. Not that Roadhog would ever admit Mako ever _had_ issues in the first place.

His dark eyes still watched that twitchy fucker's body, watched him breathe up and down. Softly. Gentle. Like nothing in the world would ever interrupt his sleep. Honestly, if Roadhog wanted to, he could choke Junkrat out right that second. He could set his hand on Junkrat's head, his neck, his chest, and press down; snap bones, crush organs, and make the annoying little fucker disappear off the face of the planet, make sure he never wakes up from such a peaceful sleep that evil shitheads like him didn't deserve. Make sure Roadhog could take all of the money.

But Mako stops that, Mako tells him, _No, you don't want to hurt him_. And Roadhog agrees. He doesn't _want_ to hurt Junkrat. He wants to protect him. Wants to make sure he can sleep forever like that, that Junkrat doesn't wake up and have to drown himself in the bathroom, doesn't have to lean over the bed and cry, doesn't have to act like Roadhog doesn't care. Make sure Junkrat never feels that pit of despair again, make sure that he never feels this ache Roadhog feels when he looks at him. And Mako is the one pulling his hand, moving the large fingers to that toasted, fluffy blonde hair, petting it gently, once, twice. Junkrat stirring a little to the touch and resettling. Mako pulls Roadhog's hand away, a smile coming behind that mask. Because behind that mask, the mask that made Roadhog, Mako still smiled at the sight of Junkrat. Made Roadhog's heart beat thump inside of his thick chest, make him feel alive again.

Because even if Roadhog could forget that ache, Mako never did.


End file.
